Author: Cyclone
Rating: K+
Summary: There was tinsel in his office. Mac/Stella
Disclaimer: Funnily enough I don't own these characters. I'm just playing with them for my own amusement.
Notes: Merry Christmas, Kate! It's not quite the bad smut!fic you were expecting, but I hope it will suffice.
XxX
Mac walked into his office with a file under his arm and a coffee in his hand, and then stopped dead in his tracks. While he'd been downstairs mingling with colleagues and dodging mistletoe, someone had broken in and decorated.
There was tinsel everywhere.
The room twinkled in green and purple, sparkled in red and gold and glittered in blue and silver. It all clashed in a gaudy but eye-catching rainbow of festivity that made him smile and cringe at the same time.
"Can I assume from that look on your face that you're impressed?" a voice asked from the doorway.
Mac turned towards its green-eyed owner and smiled at her flashing Santa earrings. Of course it would have been her. No one else would have dared to even put these colours side by side, let alone drape them over his furniture. "It's very shiny," he said diplomatically.
Stella sighed. "You hate it, don't you?"
He did, but she'd obviously put a lot of effort into transforming his office into the technicolour carbuncle that was already hurting his eyes, and he didn't want to disappoint her. "No, I don't hate it. I just – I never knew they made purple tinsel before now," he finished lamely.
She still hadn't moved from the doorway. "Purple is the best colour, Mac."
"Why is that?"
"It's a scientific fact that it makes the prettiest tinsel."
"A scientific fact?" He found his legs again and walked towards his desk, placing the file and coffee beside the small Christmas tree that had apparently sprouted while he was out as well. At least it was relatively sedate compared to the rest of his office. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Don't you pay attention to your science journals?"
Mac fingered the coloured baubles and tried to conceal his grin. "I must have missed that issue," he replied dryly. "So," he gestured around the room. "Can I ask why?"
"It's Christmas," she said with a huge smile that gave him a glimpse of what she might have looked like on Christmas morning if she'd had a tree of her own to gather around and family to spoil her. "And since Mohammed won't go to the mountain I decided to bring the mountain to Mohammed."
"Thank you. I think."
Stella surveyed her handy work with a critical eye. "I might have gone a little overboard with the tinsel," she conceded.
"I like it."
"Liar."
"Well, I like the tree."
This comment produced another smile. "The tree is pretty cute, huh?"
"Definitely cute," he agreed. "Probably the cutest tree I've seen all year."
"And exactly how many Christmas trees have you seen this year?"
"Including this one?"
Stella nodded.
"Two."
"Mac, you have to get out more. 'Tis the season to be jolly and what are you doing? Working overtime and not attending parties, that's what. I know I've told you this before, but you've gotta loosen that tie and live a little. The world won't end if you stay more than ten minutes and have a drink or two."
She had a point. The world probably wouldn't end, but Christmas parties had never really been his thing. He could normally get out of them by professing an extremely busy work load, but with the office party he had to at least make a perfunctory appearance. "You hoped to scare me out of the office and back to the party with your decorations? Is that it?"
"Just for that I should come around and decorate your house. We'll see how cocky you are when you wake up to a pink and green tinsel theme."
"You wouldn't," he said in mock terror. "Not pink and green."
"I would," she retorted. "But you could get back on my good side and forestall any further decorating if you came back to the party. Do a bit of that living and having fun thing. You'll like it – I promise."
"Maybe next –," he began, but then he noticed the last thing that Stella had added to his office in the name of Christmas and changed his mind. "So you mentioned fun?"
"More fun than you could poke a stick at," she promised. "You know, I've never understood that adage. What does it mean exactly? Why would you poke a stick at fun?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Mac said, crossing the room until he stood before her. "But we can google it later."
She shook her head in amusement and he could see the smile dancing behind her eyes.
"Do you know what you're doing?" he asked quietly.
Her eyes faded a little, but she held his gaze. "Yes. Do you?"
A sprig of mistletoe hung from his door. And Stella was standing underneath it, practically daring him to obey the rules of tradition and start something new.
"Yes," he replied, just before her smile came back and his lips met hers.
End.
Merry Christmas!